


Curtain Shopping

by cathalin



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician), American Idol RPF, Kris Allen (Musician)
Genre: Curtain Fic, First Kiss, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-30
Updated: 2009-12-30
Packaged: 2017-10-17 19:12:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/180274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cathalin/pseuds/cathalin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A trip to a store for Adam to help Kris pick out curtains for his apartment turns out to be not quite as boring as Kris anticipated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Curtain Shopping

**Curtain Shopping**

"No." Adam shook his head emphatically. "That one's all wrong. It'll drive you crazy within a day."

Kris sighed loudly in Adam's direction. They'd already been in this shop for longer than he liked spending in any retail establishment, and that included sporting goods stores. "What are you even talking about?"

Adam rolled his eyes and gestured at the fabric on the table in front of Kris. "The pattern! It's got your least favorite color in the background!"

Kris shook his head. "I don't _have_ a least favorite color. _You_ have feelings about colors. I don't."

The salesman cleared his throat. "Perhaps you gentlemen would like to see our higher-end collection? There are some elegant textures that just _work_ in so many decorating schemes."

"Textures," Kris said, covering his eyes briefly with his hand. "What does that even--You know what, forget it, I don't want to know."

"If I might make a suggestion," the salesman said. "Perhaps you could describe your decor to me, and I could try to help find something suitable?" He looked between Adam and Kris, gaze finally settling on Adam, who was lovingly stroking some fabrics attached to a ring in a grouping apparently known as _swatches_.

"Oh," Adam said. "No, it's not for me. Us. It's for him." He waved a hand at Kris.

The salesman blinked. "Oh, I'm sorry. Terribly sorry! I just assumed. That is, I--"

"No problem, man," Kris said, eyes caught by the way a muscle worked in Adam's jaw.

"I'm just helping him," Adam offered, lips pressed together in a line. "We're not, you know."

"I didn't know I had a least favorite color," Kris said, voice sounding overloud in his ears.

The salesman and Adam both looked at him. Adam said in the direction of the salesman, "He likes plaid."

The salesman's eyebrows went up. "I'll just--I think I have an idea of what might work for you." He scurried away.

Kris looked at where Adam's fingers were clenched around the swatches, knuckles a little white. He felt like he suddenly couldn't get enough air and his stomach clenched. Adam knew what his _least favorite color_ was. Kris took three steps without thinking and grabbed the edge of the swatches. He ran his thumb hesitantly over the _textures_ , then over Adam's fingers, looking up at Adam questioningly. Adam looked away and tugged on his hand, trying to get away.

"What _is_ my least favorite color?" Kris asked, holding onto Adam's fingers tightly.

Adam shook his head, steadfastly not looking at Kris. "Kris, don't."

"You're not going to tell me?"

"Stop it." Adam's voice was flat, borderline pissed-off.

Kris shuffled a little closer, so he could almost feel the rise and fall of Adam's chest. Kris took a big breath. "Look me in the eyes and don't tell me what my least favorite color is."

Adam did look at him then, eyes wide. They both stared at each other for a moment.

Kris felt the laughter bubbling up from someplace inside that hadn't seen a lot of use during this past year. He felt his lips twitch and his eyebrows rise.

"Oh my god," Adam gasped, fighting heroically not to smile. "What did you even just say?"

"Great Failures of Speaking, is there a Guinness World Record for dumbest sentence?" Kris managed before he doubled over.

Much later, collapsed on a nearby sofa upholstered in something shiny, Kris finally lifted his head from Adam's shoulder and could look at Adam without dissolving into hiccups of giggles. He felt Adam still shaking with laughter underneath him every few seconds.

The laughing had erased the lines etched on Adam's forehead and around his eyes, and softened the way he was holding his mouth, his jaw.

"This would be a good color for curtains for your house," Kris blurted, words tumbling out unexpectedly and kind of ridiculously as he stroked the silky sofa. It was like the laughing had jarred something loose. "Your eyes and hair look awesome against it." Kris felt his eyes fly wide open. He was sure his mouth was an O of horror.

Adam's eyes were wide, too, but warm.

"I--" Kris whispered.

"Your fingers are on my mouth," Adam murmured.

"Yeah. I pretty much--Adam?" Kris looked up from Adam's lips to his eyes, huge and dark. Adam's hair was sticking up all over the place, fanning out against the wine-dark red silk.

"If that was a question, I think you know the answer," Adam whispered.

Kris's chest ached suddenly and fiercely. His thumb stroked one more time over Adam's lips, then he lowered his mouth to Adam's, soft.

Adam gasped a little into his mouth, and Kris's fingers tightened around Adam's jaw. Adam's hand came up, big and warm, and rested on the back of Kris's neck. Kris licked gently at Adam's mouth, then deeper when Adam's fingers clenched in the hair at Kris's nape.

A gentle cough made Kris jump. Adam gasped out a weird sound and Kris leaned his forehead against Adam's for a second. Because, of _course_.

After a moment, Kris reluctantly levered himself up to sitting. His hand was clenched in Adam's shirt. Blue. Blue, he reflected dazedly. Blue was a good color, too.

"Sorry," Adam said to the salesman, grinning and adjusting his pants unashamedly. His lips were puffy and red. He looked amazing, incredible, like he'd look spread out on crimson silk sheets, puddled at his waist...

"Kris," Adam said warningly, and Kris snapped his eyes back up to Adam's face.

Adam was finally blushing. And grinning, too, though, so everything was good. Really, really good. At least Kris thought so, probably.

"Perhaps--Perhaps a raincheck?" the salesman said, eyes fixed firmly on the fabric display next to the sofa.

"Good idea," Adam said.

Kris felt a little dizzy and sounds seemed kind of muffled. But one thing was clear. "This, the stuff on this sofa?"

The salesman and Adam looked at Kris. He swallowed. "It's--I want some of this. For curtains. And other things, maybe. Also." He tapered off. Adam was staring at him, one of those weird looks in his eyes. One of those _warm_ looks. Very warm.

"It won't go with the plaid," the salesman said.

Kris kept looking at Adam. "I." He swallowed hard. Adam just looked at him, smiling low and sweet and deadly sexy. "I'm thinking maybe it'll go with the decor where I'll--Where I maybe sometimes?" he looked a question at Adam, suddenly convinced he was overstepping. There was no way Adam--

"That's it; you're coming home with me right now," Adam said, standing up in one swift movement, pulling Kris with him and throwing one of his cards, (silver with blue and black edges and red accents, Kris noticed, though he'd never noticed any such thing before), at the salesman. "Contact me tomorrow." He looked down at Kris, whose hand was somehow still entwined in Adam's shirt. "Make that in three or four days." He grinned shakily down at Kris, who grinned back, breathless.

Adam's forehead suddenly wrinkled and he leaned in close. "Just move in?" Adam whispered. "We've waited long enough?" His eyes were back to looking... like they'd looked for the past two years. A hellishly long two years. Like there was a question and he didn't think he'd like the answer.

"Do up sheets out of this stuff, too," Kris said over his shoulder as he tugged Adam, wide-eyed again, out of the store. "Lots of sheets. Pillowcases!"

Adam was still goggling at Kris when they tumbled in Adam's -- no, their -- door. It only made sense; Kris practically lived here, anyway. Kris pulled Adam to him by the shirt his fingers were still clutching. "Shopping for curtains turns out to be awesome," Kris said. He couldn't hear what Adam said back; the sound of Kris's back hitting the wall and Adam's growling laugh drowned it out. Somehow, Kris didn't think it mattered.

  
~The End~

**Author's Note:**

> Written for CJMarlowe, who needed a bit of cheering. I thought, oh, CJ needs curtainfic! And then my weird brain decided to take it literally.


End file.
